The Throne of Forgiveness
by Pierre990429
Summary: Sharon's thoughts during the scene with Adama in "Occupation". Originally written for the 'Objectify Sharon' challenge at Kindreds.


**Title : **The Throne of Forgiveness  
**Author : **Pierre  
**Rating : **PG-13  
**Genre : **Drama  
**Word Count : ** 1100  
**Spoilers : **Up to Season Three  
**Beta-testing : **Opal  
**A/N : **_Noir.  
_

**THE THRONE OF FORGIVENESS **

I am in the dark. If I wanted to, I could see the other offerings in this room. But not now... later. I have something to do.

The first time I saw belongings like this one, I mean for real, I wasn't really in the mood to pay attention to them. The following times, well, they were still there, and looked as I remembered them from my previous life. This one is different, and doesn't come from the same place. However, as with the other items, I consider it to be a personal token from him. But why, what is the point?

I am sitting on it right now. When I pass my hand on the surface, I can feel the leather texture. And even though I know the color is darker, I am almost back in his quarters...

_The faint deep noise of the batteries is perceptible. The attack has begun. When I think about what is going to happen, I feel even more dead inside. I have already said what I needed to say. I no longer care about anything after what has happened to me, yet I'm afraid I was too straightforward. Perhaps those last three words were too much. But, no… he just looks at my face, and then at my hands which aren't shaking because I have them clasped tightly together, with something like guilt on his own face. But I can hardly dare believe what I am seeing. He looks at me again, almost stands up, then changing his mind instead lifts his glass to his lips. The glass is empty, but he doesn't seem to notice._

I'm so tired. I just want my mind to shut down. As if none of this ever happened and become a normal Eight again, though I know I never was. Kneeling beside re-birthing Brothers and Sisters, guiding and helping them with comforting words and caresses to the head.  
Once more, he looks at me. I don't want him to see tears in my eyes. So I rise my head to view the tapestry. The one with the elephant, which reminds me of the statuettes... my mother gave me. I am trapped. That is also too painful. I close my eyelids, and a dark curtain falls over my vision...  
  
And again, I am protecting myself this way. This last memory... a dark curtain, to hide behind. Like this grey blanket, lying at this moment so innocently on my bed. My shelter from the rest of the universe...

_The guards from the other ship have gone, dragging their two new prisoners out of the cell, leaving me a wreck, a piece of garbage, abandoned and forgotten on the ground. Later, some embarrassed voices. A louder one, the Doctor is interrupting the others. And then his assistant lifts up a corner of the blanket, her face peering in at me, as she tries to bring me back to reality. But I don't want to...  
_  
_Stop this… No more, never again… Please_. I bring a lock of hair back behind my ear and use the gesture to wipe my cheek. I hope he hasn't seen that as I feel him move. He has to wait. I am not ready yet.

Not that long ago I hated and cursed him. Not only him, I started with those who had hurt me, then went on to those who loved me. After that, I included myself. And I ended with God, calling him every awful word I knew, and hoping the floor under me would swallow me up whole even if it led to Hell. Here was a problem: there is no such concept as Hell in the Cylon religion. How could there be, with a God who will eventually forgive all?

But how could I forgive? I endured humiliation, torture, rape, almost suffered a forced abortion. And then they killed my baby. If God wouldn't help me to destroy them all for that could my Sisters and Brothers? I dreamt that the Cylon fleet annihilated the Colonials. If I survived the assault, I thought, I could return to them, imploring their forgiveness. And maybe they would only laugh and take me in their arms. And tell me that, indeed, this lost Eight had spent too much time in the company of humans, if she thought they would harm her because of some perceived act of treason.

Then one day I realized that these terrible thoughts were only the expression of my feelings of guilt. That I wanted to punish myself for the decisions I made. And that I needed to forgive, starting with myself.

A human made the first step. I spent all my time lying on the bed, eyes closed, mind completely gone. I couldn't even _project_, in order to have the illusion of escape. I barely ate enough to survive. Then someone entered my cell and talked to me, in a very soft voice. And then he took my hand. After a while, discouraged by my absence of reaction, he prepared to leave. But I pressed his hand with mine, using up all that was left of my now pitiful strength. He got the message and remained seated by my side. I think I slept, and when I woke up, he was still there. We did this for almost a week. I never looked at his face. We never spoke, I only listened to him. I was so confused I don't even remember the sounds his voice made. But I always knew who he was.

And now I am sitting on a couch, like it is a throne. As if I am a Queen. Then what does that make the man patiently waiting at my right side? Is he one of my loyal subjects, seeking an audience? The one who has already given me the other gifts? A lamp, the tables, treasured books, the curtain, all so I can do something else than stare at the walls and have some privacy. What does he want from me?

My name is Sharon. I am not a god, nor a queen, only a Model Eight Cylon. But I will try. Admiral Adama, when I open my eyes, I will have forgiven myself. And then we will continue to talk, as we have done for some time. And maybe I will be able to teach you what I have learnt. Not now. I need just a moment more. But soon… very soon.


End file.
